Totally Fine
by KKray
Summary: What happens after Drama Club stays after Drama Club... or something. In other words, Christine and Michael bond over Skittles.


Christine was fine.

No, really! She was.

Totally fine, that is.

She definitely wasn't freaking out in the darkened auditorium about her audition in two hours.

She certainly wasn't rehearsing her lines over and over until the words all blurred together.

If there was one thing she wasn't, it was forcing herself to sing even though it was totally obvious she wasn't up for it, like her voice wasn't cracking all over the place. As if she could breathe right and her heart wasn't pounding so hard that it was literally all she could hear and she wasn't sure if she was even making any noise at all.

"Hello?"

As if she wasn't going deaf and wouldn't be able to hear them telling her to stop so she'd keep singing until they laughed at her and threw her out-

"Christine?"

Because she was fine. Fine fine fine fine!

"Christine!"

She jumped. It was Michael! Jeremy's friend. He was standing at the doors, easing them closed. A bag was slung over his shoulder and a notebook under his arm. He was wearing that big red hoodie and giant headphones. She wondered if she had ever seen him in a different outfit. It seemed that every time she saw him, he was hiding in his hoodie or behind his headphones. They looked like they blocked out all the noise when he put them on. That would be nice. Not that it would last very long if she put them on. Her brain would fill up the silence quickly.

He coughed pointedly.

"Oh, sorry! I was practicing my lines and I didn't know anybody else was going to be here!" She coughed out an awkward laugh. She hated forgetting something and then people looked at her weirdly. It was an awful feeling. "I can leave if you need the stage! It's just that nobody's ever here except when there's rehearsal and there isn't a play going on." She cocked her head. "Or an assembly. But it's also like two hours after school and normally everybody's gone home and I can practice on the stage and even though it's really dark and kinda creepy it's actually pretty great!"

Christine snapped her mouth tightly, feeling her face heating up. She had just word vomited on Michael. They didn't even know each other! He was going to think she was weird for hanging out on the stage after school. She wasn't! Weird, that is. The other was kinda undeniable.

Michael quirked his lips into a grin. "Nah, it's cool. I don't need the stage for anything." He took a look around. The rows of chairs were kinda interesting to look at, though they were the most uncomfortable chairs Christine had ever sat on. It was cool to see the place that the audience was without there actually being an audience. There was something freeing about being alone. "The last time I was in here, the whole cast got squiped."

She chuckled nervously. Being squiped had been horrible. Having directions whispered into her ear by Hillary Clinton and not being able to control the words coming out of her mouth. "Yeah." The word fell flat.

He flushed. "Sorry! I, uh, didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"It's fine." Who knew her voice could be so bland? But when Michael looked down and shuffled his feet, she immediately felt bad. It wasn't like she was the only one who was there that night. Besides, she had never known Michael to be mean- to her or anyone else. Clearing her throat, she asked, "So, why are you here?"

Michael started fiddling with his headphone cord. Was she scaring him? It was obvious that he wasn't a very social person- that wasn't quite true. When it was just Jeremy, Michael was often a completely different person. He was open and laughed loudly and was usually grinning. After the play, the Squip Squad, as Rich had affectionately named it, had started eating lunch together. Michael normally sat at the end of the table, listening to music. That was the extent of their interaction. Maybe it was the group?

"I, uh, I was walking back from Art Club- it's every Tuesday- and I um, I heard someone talking? There's not a play going on- Jeremy would've been all over it if there was- and I was curious who was in here." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You seemed upset."

Oh.

He was worried?

He heard her freak out!

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm fine!" If there was one thing worse than having a breakdown, it was having a breakdown and then being caught afterwards. "I- uh, was just practicing my lines!" She stammered, frantically trying to talk her way out without expressly telling a lie. "Yeah! Just-just my lines." She tried to smile, but her lips wouldn't cooperate. A grimace came out instead.

Was he going to yell at her for talking too much? Enough people have told her that she did. Sometimes the words just fell out of her mouth without her trying.

What was she thinking? This was Michael. He wouldn't yell. Think she was weird and never ever talk to her willingly, maybe, but yell? No.

Oh god. What if he told Jeremy about this? Jeremy'd tell Brooke who'd tell Chloe who'd tell Jenna and then the whole school would know!

"What for?"

"Huh?" Christine blinked rapidly a few times. She had lost the conversation in her thoughts. "Oh!" She giggled nervously. "There's a community theatre that's about to start their next play. It's The Sound of Music!" She checked herself before she got started on a rant- she could go on and on about her favorite musicals. She was trying not to convince Michael that she was crazy!

But when she looked at him, he wasn't staring. In fact, he wasn't even looking at her. He was sitting on the ground, criss cross applesauce, rooting through his backpack. At her pause, he looked up and flashed a grin. He hauled out two colorful bags and asked-

"You like Skittles?"

"Uh, yeah? Who doesn't like Skittles"

He patted the ground and held out a bag. "It's not like they're going to eat themselves."

A few minutes passed while they ate the candy. Christine found herself relaxing, eventually trading colors, debating the best one.

"What do you mean you don't like green apple?"

"It's not like I hate it, but I refuse to accept that the switch from lime is permanent."

"You liked lime?"

"It was a classic!"

"I can't believe you."

"Says the woman whose favorite flavor is grape."

"Grape is an awesome flavor! And it's purple! You can't go wrong with purple."

"So lime is weird but eating cough syrup is fine?"

"Says the man who drinks cherry slushies every day. Who likes cherry? It's liquid medicine!"

"How dare you!"

Soon the bag was gone, but the chatter remained.

"What were you doing at Art Club? I didn't think you'd like any extracurriculars." Oops. Was that rude? Her filters were down.

Michael pouted. "Just because I'm a loser doesn't mean that I don't like to socialize!"

"You're not a loser!" She said indignantly. "Well, it's just, you never come with the group when we go out." Christine pointed out. "The play was the first thing I've seen you at after school." It was strange, now that she thought about it. Every time the Squip Squad went to the mall, the movies, or anywhere at all really, Michael would shake his head or quip that there were too many hours of homework in the day for any to be sacrificed.

"Okay, you've got me there." Michael shrugged. "I hate groups. It's just not for me, you know?"

She nodded sagely. Christine did know. She loved theatre, of course, but being in a play was a completely different thing than hanging out with a group of people. She hung out with Brooke and Chloe sometimes, Rich and Jake occasionally, Jenna once or twice, and Jeremy… well, she'd hung out with all of the others at one point in time. A flicker of determination warmed her chest. She resolved to find something that he would like to do. Just the two of them. Michael was way too cool a person to not get to know better.

She offered hesitantly, "With rehearsal, you get lines and directions and guidance. You already know what to do."

"That's why you like it, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She could remember how she just wanted everything to be easy. To be scripted out and practiced multiple times. Shame curled in her belly. One day, she'd talk it out with herself. But not today.

"What time is your audition at?"

Groaning, she flopped to her back on the floor. "Six." She could feel the anxiety rising again. She clenched her jaw tightly.

"It's only five." Fabric rustled then Michael was laying next to her, shoulder to shoulder. "I-if you want, I could give you a ride." She tilted her head to look at him. At her surprised look, he hastily backtracked. "I mean, if you've already got a ride, that's fine! But I was wondering if you wanted someone to come with you? To give you- uh, moral support? If you don't, that's fine!"

"Michael!" Christine cut him off.

"Yeah?"

"I would love it if you came with me! No one else has before!"

"Great!"

"Great!"

There was a moment of quiet. But instead of feeling the need to cram the space with words, Christine was… content. Happy, even. It was true. No one else had taken much of an interest in her theatre projects. Except for her parents, but they didn't really count. None of her peers ever came with her. They were either too busy with their own lives or didn't care. Sure, sometimes they went to her performances, but so far none of them had gone to an audition, or a rehearsal, or even hung around while she practiced unless they were also involved.

"We should probably get going."

"Yeah."

Neither moved.

"Okay. We don't want to be late." Michael hauled himself to his feet. Christine sighed. "Come on." He held his hand out for Christine's, pulling her up when she grabbed it. They made their way to his car, cracking jokes the whole time. She was a giggly mess when she was finally buckling her seat belt.

"And then I said, 'shouldn't be a problem with your ugly face!'"

Christine cackled. The thought of a tiny Michael mouthing off to a bully two grades older was so foreign compared to the lanky teen beside her now.

"So, where are we going?"

"The church on Eleventh."

"Is that where you're going to perform? Or practice?"

Christine smiled brightly. "Both! It's where we'll perform and practice!"

They pulled up into the church's parking lot and her throat clenched. Nerves bubbled up through her stomach and into her throat. Her smile dropped off her face. What if her mouth wouldn't open and she couldn't get any words out? What if she forgot all of her lines? What if they laughed her off the stage? She mentally cursed herself for joking with Michael when she should have been running through her lines one more time.

"Christine!" Michael shook her shoulder. She tried to smile, tried to tell him she was fine, but… but. She looked at him.

Michael, who had talked her out of a break down.

Michael, who had given her a bag of Skittles.

Michael, who had cracked jokes with her.

Michael, who took a risk and, even though they weren't friends, had never talked to her before, calmed her down.

And the reassurance wouldn't come. Instead-

"What if they laugh?"

Michael frowned. He opened his mouth, but Christine cut him off.

"What if they decide that I'm not good enough?" She gestured broadly with her hands. "It's not my first show outside the school, but it's the first one with an actual shot of getting a lead role! What if I get there and I can't even open my mouth?"

He grabbed one of her hands. She twisted her lips together and looked down at her lap. Her eyes burned.

"Hey." It was so concerned, so gentle, that she had to look. Michael really had the most beautiful brown eyes now that she was close enough to see behind his glasses.

"I can't tell you what the casting people are going to say. I can't tell you what your part will be. But I can tell you that all of your friends will still love hanging out with you."

"Even you?"

Michael's face bloomed with color. He started stammering. "I-uh. Um-"

Christine grinned. She knocked her shoulder into his. "Aren't we friends now?"

"Weren't we before?"

"Yeah, but like, actual friends. Friends who eat Skittles on stage after hours and drive each other to auditions." And talked to each other everyday, but one thing at a time. This was enough. She wondered why she didn't try to talk to him before.

"Y-yeah." He grinned. "I'd like that." His smile grew mischevious. "Don't you have to audition or something?"

"Oh my god!" It was 5:58. She jumped out of the car and started running to the entrance. She was going to be late!

"You'll kill it!"

She laughed, tossing two thumbs up over her shoulder. A friendly honk followed her.

Christine was going to be fine.

Totally fine.


End file.
